


Quiet Gods

by lokilickedme



Series: Chemical Prehistories [8]
Category: Chris Hemsworth - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Best Friends, Chem!Tom and Chris are sluts, Chemical prehistory, Deaf Character, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Het and Slash, Hiddlesworth, Implied/Referenced Underage Relationship(s), Large Cock, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Multi, Naked Cuddling, Open Relationships, POV Female Character, Polyamory, Sharing, Thorki - Freeform, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, brief mention of underage sex, guy doing guy doing girl, sorta - Freeform, two guys and a girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7252036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilickedme/pseuds/lokilickedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>True love lingers whether you're near each other or not - but what happens when that love spreads out among three people instead of just two?  Eva has loved Chris since they were kids, and when she comes back to town years later she finds her man still loves her, but...he loves someone else, too.  What's a girl to do when her soulmate is attached at a deeper-than-souls level with his best friend?</p>
<p>What do you THINK?</p>
<p>A Chemical Prehistory told from Eva's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Gods

 

The funniest thing I've ever seen in my life was the big blond jock guy trying to talk to me.  He was maybe fifteen but already huge, already cute as hell, and already so full of himself that I wanted to just laugh at him and walk away, but I'd been watching him all summer and there was something about him that kept me looking.  He'd never made any attempt to communicate with me before, and now I knew why.

He had a low tolerance for making a fool of himself.

But he was doing just that, and in spite of my deep and profound amusement at his ridiculous attempts to figure out if I could hear him or not, I let him continue.  It might have been my perverse need to see how stupid he could make himself look, or maybe I just wanted to find out how badly he could accidentally offend me before one of us got mad.  But after a few minutes of watching the people around us wince as he raised his voice and made exaggerated gestures, I finally, for some reason, let his silly ass off the hook.

"I can read you just fine, you don't have to yell.  And put your hands down, that's not even _close_ to signing."

I'll never forget the look on his face.  He actually took a step back, as if the sound of my voice startled him.  He was looking around, checking to see how many of his friends had seen, smiling sheepishly when he finally dared to look at me again.  So cute.

"Sorry.  I didn't know you could...you know..."

"Talk?  Yeah, I can talk.  I'm just picky about who I talk _to."_

His smile widened a little, starting to look slightly more sincere.  He glanced down at my hands, scowling a little as I signed along with my speaking.  It was a habit, and I could tell it made him nervous because he obviously couldn't read it.  "You want to walk home with me today?" he finally asked, those deepset cornflower-blue eyes sparkling with a playful charm that made me feel a little bit weak.  "Your house is just up the street from mine."

There it was - the smile had gone full blown and in that short moment between smarmy and sweet I let my defenses down.  Not just down - kicked completely to the curb.  I pretended to think about it, but I'd already made my mind up...he could walk me anywhere he wanted, I'd happily follow just to get a good look at that sexy backside.  But I didn't give him an answer until the last bell rang and he came out of the gymnasium to find me waiting for him, holding my backpack out for him to carry.  


 

We were both turning sixteen that summer, and like all sixteen year olds, we felt that odd pulling toward the opposite sex that often results in poorly executed decisions and cringeworthy mistakes.  But none of it felt either poorly executed or cringeworthy, and by the end of the summer we'd lost our virginity to each other, first in my bed while my parents were at work and then again in his.  The communication between us was still awkward, since I read lips and he barely moved his mouth when he spoke, resulting in my frequent frustration and his annoyance.  When I got mad I would start angrily shooting sign language at him and he would stare at my hands, blank confusion in his handsome face, till finally he would roll his eyes or shake his head and I would flip him off and walk away.

But despite his inability to talk to me, we liked each other.  A lot.  So much that when I told him at the end of summer that my family was moving to Seattle, he actually got a little teary.  We had sex one more time at his place while his mom was at work, and the day we left he walked down to my house to wave goodbye.

I watched him from the back window of the car until we turned the corner and he was gone.  I didn't think I'd ever see him again.  


 

When I came back to San Diego ten years later, that big handsome boy was a huge handsome man.

He was working in a pub called Tommy's.  The owner was his best friend, a tall guy with long black hair and a face that looked like it belonged in a Paco Rabanne ad.  Just fucking gorgeous, a bit of a slut but a truly nice guy who would do anything in the world for anyone.  They were perfect opposites, physically striking when they were apart but headturning when they were together.  Where Chris was all bulk and muscle and broad face and golden hair and a cute button nose, Tommy was long and lean and wiry, with high cheekbones and a slightly bent nose that looked like it had been broken more than once, a wide grin and long, sleek black hair.  He was half Cree but had sorta pale skin and big blue eyes, just a really beautiful mix of features that might not have been quite so attractive divided up on their own.  But all together, he was gorgeous.  The ladies loved him.  Hell, the guys loved him too, he had that slightly androgynous thing working for him that attracted everybody, regardless of gender.  Chris caught me staring at him more than once and always shook his head, shooting me a slightly disapproving little smile that said _Not you too, come on!_ But I could tell he didn't really mind, and there was no jealousy in that look.  He knew everybody loved Tommy.

It was more than obvious _he_ loved him, too.   


 

The first time I saw them interact behind the bar I knew there had been something between them while I was gone.  It was obvious to me...I was a natural observer, I had to be or I would miss everything as it went on around me.  I could see it in the way they talked to each other, the way they inhabited their own space and each other's.  It was like a delicately sensual dance between lovers who really don't care if anyone knows about them, but it's nobody's business but theirs.  Nobody else saw it, because they were both so undeniably masculine, so hardcore male, that the underlying softness in their eyes when they looked at each other went unnoticed.  But I noticed it.

I felt a sharp twinge of jealousy when I realized they'd been lovers.

But I didn't feel angry about it.  Tommy had the kind of face that, if you looked at him long enough, you could see his history - every heartbreaking, ugly moment of it.  Most people with telling faces like that spend their lives not looking at anyone else, trying to keep from being read and discovered.  But Tommy would look at you and never blink, never turn away, and if you could stand it, he'd let you read for as long as you wanted or until you couldn't take any more.  He didn't hide anything.  He also didn't talk a lot, but again, if you knew how to read faces, it was all there anyway.  He didn't need to use words.

I think he knew this about me.  I thought when he figured it out that he would stop letting me read him, but he didn't - if anything, he opened himself up to me even more, to the point where I understood what had gone on between him and Chris.  Understood it and accepted it.  Which is why, after Tom demanded that Chris learn sign language so that he could talk to me more efficiently and therefore guaranteeing that he wouldn't strike out with me, I was quick to agree to sleep with them both.   


 

I loved Chris - I'd never forgotten him when we moved away, thought about him often, was excited that he was still in San Diego and unattached when I came back.  But there was something between him and this tall, sweet faced boy that some deep seated part of me wanted to see more of.  Something that I knew they'd both outgrown during the years when I was away and they were together, without anyone between them.  Something mildly perverse inside me wanted to be between them, just once, in the most literal way possible.

So when I suggested it to Chris and he stared at my hands in confusion, obviously thinking he'd misread what I'd just signed to him, I came right out and said it on the assumption that he'd believe his ears.  But the words seemed to shock him even more and his eyes went wide in disbelief.

"Come on, baby," I said as seductively as I could, though I'll be the first to admit I never have any clue if I'm doing it right or if Chris is just humoring me.  "Ask him, what could it hurt?  I know you still want him...I see the way you look at him.  It's the same way you look at me."

He only looked sheepish for a moment before that sweet grin spread across his face, his cheeks pinkening in the cutest blush I'd ever seen.  "He'll never agree to it," he said, laughing nervously.  "He's got his life partner picked out and he's slowing down his promiscuous streak."

"That girl he likes belongs to someone else.  The only way he'll get her is if he gets hit by a bus."

"If who gets hit by a bus?"

Tom had come up beside Chris to get some glasses from under the bar and winked at me, smiling that broad smile of his, the one that made everyone fall in love with him.  Chris shook his head, pushing his elbow into Tom's ribs while he gave me a condescending look.  He obviously thought what he was about to say was going to earn a laugh or at least a _yeah right._

"How would you feel about sleeping with me and Eva?"

Tom looked at him for a second before turning to me and signing _What's he been smoking?_    
  


 

The boys closed the pub at quitting time, business as usual, saying goodnight to the regulars and cleaning up the same as every other night.  But when the lights went off and Chris took my hand to lead me to the door, he held his other hand out to Tom.  No answer had been given yet to our invitation, and I almost expected Tommy to shake his head and say goodnight to us.  But after a long moment of just standing there, staring at Chris's extended hand, he finally reached out and took it.  
  
  
 

Tom moved up behind me, pressing his lips to the side of my neck as his hands gripped my shoulders gently;  I could feel him against my back, stiff and solid already, and I wanted so bad to look at him.  But Chris had started kissing his way from my ear to my lips, pulling me down onto his lap as he sat down on the edge of the bed.  Tom moved around us to climb onto the bed and I finally got a good look at him - he was surprisingly well muscled, not big and bulky like Chris, but that lithe sort of powerful strength that you'd never expect from just seeing him with his clothes on.  The tattoos down the outside of his left leg were a surprise as well.  They were inked in black mostly, tribal markings and various images of a wolf stretching all the way from his ankle to his hip.  It gave me a little bit of a shiver, seeing it, knowing this story written on his skin had been hidden under his clothes ever since I'd known him and not knowing what any of it meant.

But maybe the biggest surprise was the size of his cock.  Chris was big, bigger than comfort allowed, if I'm strictly honest...but Tom was huge, thick and long, and I felt my breath catch when I looked at him.  I wasn't here to get fucked by him - what I really wanted was to just be with them while they did each other - but once I got a good look at him I caught myself wondering if Chris would let him put it in me.  Or if he would want to.

I knew Tom liked all kinds of girls.  I'd seen him leave the pub with so many, every one of them different, none falling into any particular type that you could identify as being his preference.  I knew he was straight, or at least bi, or maybe a little bit pan...we all knew he had a transvestite friend that for some reason he was strangely devoted to, and that besides all the women, he and Chris were abnormally close for a couple of guys who weren't in a relationship with each other.  I didn't really have much fear that he wouldn't be turned on by me.  So when Chris nodded his approval and Tom started kissing me, his big gentle hands sliding around my back to lay me down and climb on top of me, I knew I wasn't going to have any regrets.

We were settling into a beautiful slow rhythm when he was suddenly much heavier and I opened my eyes;  Chris had been holding my hand the whole time Tom made love to me, but he had let go and I could see him above us, behind Tom, and the look on Tom's face cleared up any confusion I had about what was happening.  His mouth fell open and his eyes closed, and it was like looking up at an angel in rapture.  He locked his elbows to hold his and Chris's weight off me and while I knew it had to be a struggle, keeping his concentration focused on fucking me while Chris fucked him, I swear his attention never left what he was doing despite what was being done to him.

I think all three of us came at the same time.  I truly wished I could hear them, their breathing and panting and whatever it was that they were saying to each other, their words falling incomprehensible to my unhearing ears, their lips unreadable as moans interrupted their words and kisses hid their mouths.  But I could see their faces, and the sheer ecstasy I saw there spoke more than loud enough for me to hear.   


 

Watching Chris fuck Tom was, and still is to this day, the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.  And when it was over and he dropped his head down next to Tom's and his golden hair mixed with Tom's raven black, I thought no two people had ever looked more right together.  I'm madly in love with Tom and Anja as a couple now that they're together, but...seeing him with Chris did something to me, something that left a mark.

These two didn't just have the hots for each other.  These two _loved_ each other.  And it wasn't a sexual love...that was just a part of it, a small part that didn't even come close to touching on what was in their hearts.  Tom didn't even seem all that interested in the sex, though he did warm up to it once it got going.  But what woke him up was when Chris touched him.

My big strong man...always the biggest person in the room, menacing in that quiet-strength sort of way that intimidates everyone without a word.  He was always gentle with me, unfailingly tender even though he was undeniably dominant, but even the soft touch he used on me paled in comparison to the way he touched Tom.  And the way Tom responded, completely shedding the dominant part of his own nature and letting Chris have complete control - it was like watching a hornet morph into a dragonfly.

And all I could do was watch, dumbfounded and heartrendingly _moved,_ as they kissed.   


 

Tom lay next to me when it was over, his arm draped across my chest, his long fingers stroking the side of my neck while he kissed my shoulder.  Chris was on my other side, an arm and a leg stretched out over us both like a protective guardian to watch over us while we slept, holding Tom's other hand above my head.  I've never felt safer or more loved in my life, laying between these two guys who loved each other more than either of them would ever love me.  But I belonged to Chris and he would always keep me safe...and Tommy loved Chris, so I knew I was special to him for that.

It was a nice place to be.   


 

It was only once, and it was never spoken of between any of us after that night.  Tommy ended up with Anja and we became friends.  I never told her I'd slept with him...I think she probably figured we'd done it at some point, because Tommy slept around a lot before they got together - it was how he self soothed, the only way he knew of to keep himself calm until years later when he finally got a grip on his past.  In all honesty, she was probably the only female that frequented his pub that he _hadn't_ slept with during that time.  He left other guys' girls alone, but once Sam was no longer in the picture, Anja was _his._

It was how it was meant to be, nobody ever doubted that.   


 

Throughout my life I've spent a lot of time watching people;  it's what I do, the only way I can keep up with what's happening around me.  There's no noise to catch my attention, no voices to listen to, no sound to clue me in to what's going on.  So I watch, and without the clatter and clamor of the hearing world, I'm able to pay attention better than most people.  I see things that most would miss, distracted as they are with listening and hearing and sorting through it all, their sensory processes constantly bombarded with neverending noise.  But I'm blissfully unaffected by that.  I can read a person's lips to get their words, but it's when you read a person's eyes that you truly begin to understand who they are inside.  Words can tell you anything the speaker wants you to hear, but eyes go straight past the lies and show you what's inside.  Tommy's eyes revealed the truth about what he was, and I always thought it was such a shame that everyone else was too distracted by the noise of the world around him to see that truth.  Except Chris...Chris saw it, he always had, probably discovering it in those silent moments between the two of them when words were neither needed nor welcome.  Quiet moments when they looked at each other and understood.  They saw it in each other, and the world went silent around them when they looked in each other's eyes.  In those moments, they were like me - hushed and observant, seeing it all without distraction.

In those moments, they smiled at each other and knew that they were gods among men.   


 

Tommy still winks at me when I come in, that sly little grin telling me that he remembers it just as vividly as I do.  I know it means something to him.  He's just like that...every experience is special, because he knows he's got no earthly right to even still be alive, much less experiencing such beauty in life.  He was tested almost from birth and he passed every trial he was forced to walk through.  Chris's life hadn't been like that, but he'd taken it upon himself to love this broken creature and walk with him through the fires of hell until he came out the other side, a bit singed and smelling of smoke but reveling in the thrill of having made it.  I always thought that was why Tommy's hair was so black...it was soot from the smoke of all those raging fires that had failed to kill him.  A sign of his indestructibility.  And then Chris, a golden angel standing next to a blackened demon, holding a tight grip onto one of the demon's shabby wings to keep him from soaring back into the flames he'd risen from.  Two ethereal beings, feeding invincibility to each other through a bond that could only be seen if you covered your ears and stopped listening.

Because what else do angels who fall from heaven become, if not gods on earth?

 

 

 


End file.
